Chapter 8

Nightfall found Caleb crossing the play yard on his rounds. For two days he’d been feeling rather crafty—and if he were honest with himself, rather bleak—at having eluded the presence of the beautiful Countess of Grattling. They passed one another, of course, but always at a distance, with a cheerful wave and shouted greeting. She hadn’t required his presence, but they were in constant contact by way of the messages that flew back and forth between them via the service staff. It felt rather ingenious, and it spared him the dilemma of having to keep his attraction to her in check.

The children called out to him, too. He could scarcely make his way across the grounds without being hailed by a dozen tykes. They wanted him to throw the ball because he could throw it farther than anyone else. Or they needed him to reach a toy because it was stuck in a tree. If Lady Eleanor happened to be present, at least those times held less risk because they weren’t alone. The children were with them. Between them.

What was most dangerous were the times she found it impossible to sleep and would roam the garden.

He didn’t want to imagine the reason for her sleeplessness for fear it was memories of her husband. After seeing her bent shoulders and bowed head when she placed the flowers on his grave, Caleb knew how much his death had affected her.

“Another sleepless night?” he asked when he caught her movement out of the corner of his eye as she walked through the moonlit garden.

She turned at the sound of his voice. “Not exactly. I was about to retire when Jenny came for me. The lass we rescued this week was having a time of it. She missed her mum, and Jenny thought I might be helpful.”

“And were you?”

She smiled. “I’ve had a great deal of practice at calming overwrought children. In time, the lass fell asleep. But by that time, sleep was far from anything I could manage.”

Caleb smiled.

“Would you mind if I accompanied you on your rounds?”

“Of course not,” Caleb lied. It was a beautiful night, and he’d thought of her far too much to now be in her company. He adjusted his pace to hers as they walked from one post to the next. But he didn’t hold out his arm or take her hand. He knew how he would react to her touch.

“Have the men had any trouble?” she asked after they left the spot that Willie guarded.

“Not trouble, exactly. One of the men thought he saw someone trying to approach the manor house, but on investigation, it was a young deer.” Caleb didn’t tell her that they did, however, find fresh tracks that indicated someone had been there.

They stepped around the reflecting pool and strolled to the area that Jamie guarded. Caleb had been impressed with Jamie from the first. He would have made an excellent agent for the government had he served in the war. He was extremely observant and caught things that most of the other guards didn’t catch.

“Good evening, Jamie,” he greeted when they approached the lad.

Jamie spun around as if they’d taken him by surprise. The expression on Jamie’s face told Caleb something was wrong, and Caleb wished Eleanor wasn’t with him.

“What is it?”

“Something’s out there,” Jamie said. “Behind that grove of trees. Could just be an animal, but . . .” He paused to listen. “I don’t think so.”

Caleb looked to where he pointed. “Stay with Jamie, my lady. I think I’ll take a look.”

“Perhaps we should go for more men?” she said.

“We can’t risk having other areas go unguarded for what might be an animal foraging for a midnight meal.”

She nodded. “I suppose not. You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he said, then turned to look over his shoulder. “You know what to do, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Jamie answered.

Caleb kept to the shadows as he made his way toward the copse of trees. That’s when he heard the sound Jamie had described. He went from tree to tree until he could get a clear look at what was making the sound. It was a man.

The stranger was crouched on the ground, filling a bag with dry leaves and brush. The rhythmic drag of his hand across the littered ground was the sound that had alerted Jamie. When he saw the paraphernalia the man had placed on a nearby tree stump, it didn’t take Caleb long to realize what the man intended. He watched as the man slowly stuffed the brush into the tops of bottles. Caleb didn’t doubt the bottles were filled with alcohol or some sort of flammable liquid and would be placed around Southern Oaks. Then lit.

Caleb pulled his pistol from his pocket and stepped into the open. “Stop what you’re doing, and step away from the bottles.”

Surprise was evident on the man’s face. He recognized Caleb, and Caleb recognized him from that first afternoon confrontation. This was Blackboot’s man. For a moment it seemed as though he was going to follow Caleb’s orders. Very slowly the man lifted his hands as if in surrender, then reached into his waistband, pulled out a knife, spun to the side and threw it.

Caleb felt a burning sensation in his thigh. He fired his gun, and the man went down.

“Captain!”

“Here, Jamie.”

Caleb dropped to the ground. The knife was still in his thigh, but he knew better than to pull it out before he tied something tight above the wound.

“Are you hurt, Captain?”

“A knife wound. Do you have something I can tie around my thigh?” From the amount of blade that had disappeared into his leg, Caleb knew it was solidly lodged in the bone.

“I do,” Lady Eleanor said, then Caleb heard the sound of ripping fabric. A moment later, she handed Jamie the ruffle from her petticoat.

“This is going to hurt, Captain,” Jamie said as he tied it tightly around Caleb’s thigh.

Caleb grimaced, but he’d anticipated the pain. This wasn’t the first time he’d been injured. He watched Jamie tighten the length of ruffling and looked up to see Lady Eleanor’s worried face.

“It’s the height of fashion in tourniquets, don’t you think?” His voice sounded more feeble than he’d hoped, but he was able to hold his grin.

Her brows arched and then her lips twitched. “One might even say my petticoat has never looked better.’

He waited for the blush, but it never came. The good lady had just made a bit of an improper joke and was not even embarrassed by it. There seemed to be all manner of surprises tonight.

“Can you get up?” Jamie asked.

“Yes, but first check to make sure our intruder is dead.”

Jamie ran to the man on the ground, then hurried back. “He’s dead.”

“Good. Now give me your arm.”

Jamie looped Caleb’s arm around his shoulder and hefted him to his feet.

Before he took his first step, Lady Eleanor stepped to his other side and placed his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll send for Dr. Norman.”

Thankfully, several men who’d heard the gunshot came on a run. One fellow took over supporting Caleb, and two others were sent to collect the firebombs. And the dead body. And to check that the man had no cohorts.

Caleb hobbled between them to the manor house, praying that the weakness he felt in his chest wouldn’t overtake his whole body. By the time they reached his room, the men helping him were almost forced to carry him. The relief he felt when they placed him on the bed was quickly replaced by excruciating pain when they lifted his leg. Several servants entered with water, cloths, and bandages, and shortly after, the doctor arrived. He walked to the bed and looked at the knife sticking out of Caleb’s thigh.

“You must be this captain the children constantly tell me about,” he said, taking a knife from his medical bag and cutting the material of Caleb’s pants away from his leg.

“Yes, sir,” Caleb answered on a raspy breath.

“Well, at least you’ve given me something far more challenging than a cut knee that needs to be stitched or a broken arm that needs to be set.”

“Glad to oblige, doctor.” Caleb dug his head into the pillow as the doctor continued to work on his leg.

“My lady, would you happen to have some whiskey handy?” the doctor asked without lifting his gaze from Caleb’s leg.

It took only a moment for her to make it appear.

“You don’t need to stay, my lady,” he said, not wanting her to leave him, yet wanting her gone. His earlier humor had fled and now all he wanted was to get past the pain. He followed his comment with a large gulp of whiskey.

“I have no intention of going anywhere.” To emphasize her point, she stepped closer to the bed and knelt beside him. Then she reached for his hand.

“You two hold him down,” the doctor ordered two servants who were still in the room. “And you hold his leg,” he said to a third.

Strong hands pushed against Caleb’s shoulders and leg.

“This is going to hurt,” Dr. Norman said, then placed a belt around Caleb’s thigh and pulled it tight. When he had the strap firmly in place, he pulled the knife free.

Caleb bolted, but strong hands held him in place.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, and a cool cloth wiped the rivers of wetness from his face. He turned his head and caught Lady Eleanor’s concerned gaze. Then he closed his eyes and let the whiskey deliver its soothing balm.

. . .

The captain was sitting on the side of the bed the next morning when Lady Eleanor arrived with the cane she’d hunted up for him. He wore a white shirt and black trousers. His hair had been combed and was tied at the nape of his neck with a leather band. His shirt was tucked in at his waist, and Carruthers had helped get his boots on his feet. But he wasn’t wearing a frock coat or a jacket.

He looked threateningly handsome.

“Did getting dressed wear you out enough that you want to go back to bed?”

“No, it wore me out enough to convince me that I refuse to waste the effort of dressing without walking around the grounds at least once.”

“Perhaps we’ll start with the room, shall we?”

“The room,” he griped as he braced on the edge of the bed. “All right. The room.”

Eleanor walked to his side and handed him the cane. She placed his arm over her shoulders, then waited for him to lift himself to his feet. He rose, stood long enough to gain his balance, then took one tentative step toward the opposite side of the room.

The cane helped to steady him as he took one step after another. Eleanor was surprised at how little he leaned against her—only enough to keep him steady. In no time, he made it to the opposite side of the room.

“Would you like to rest for a bit?” she asked when they reached a cushioned chair beneath the window.

“I believe I shall remain upright, my lady.”

“Excellent. Then stand in front of the window for a moment. I have a surprise for you.”

The draperies were already pulled and the window open a little. Eleanor opened it wider and helped him to stand close enough that he could look out at the children standing below.

“Hello, Captain!” they called out when they saw him.

Captain Parker dropped his head back on his shoulders and laughed. Then he leaned out the window and waved. “Hello!” he answered back.

The children waved and hollered, wishing him a speedy recovery so he could join them in their games.

“I bet I can beat you now,” Robby called.

“In your dreams, lollygagger,” he yelled back, and the yard erupted in laughter.

After they wished him a final farewell, they were shooed back to their play. The captain turned to face her. “Thank you,” he said, clearly touched. “That was exactly what I needed.”

“I thought you’d enjoy hearing from them. They ask about you every hour, it seems. They miss you.” She held his gaze for several moments, then focused on the chair beneath the window. “Would you like to rest for a moment?”

He shook his head. “How can I rest after such encouragement? You heard them. There’s a game of catch waiting for me.”

“Never you mind, Captain. They’ll learn patience.”

“But why should they have to?”

Eleanor laughed and turned to the door. At the same moment, Caleb turned, and they awkwardly brushed shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to the door.”

Caleb smiled. “Me too. After you, duchess.”

“But you—” She gestured toward the bed.

“I think a good trip down the stairs is just what the doctor ordered,” he grinned.

“You can’t possibly!”

“Watch me.”

Caleb walked to the door with scarcely a limp, but when he turned to let her go through first, she saw the grimace on his face. He was going to use that leg if it killed him, so she may as well stay close enough to assist if need be.

Eleanor swept through the door and moved to the head of the stairs, expecting to turn and wait for him to join her. But he was just a step behind her, the pain and determination screwing his features into something that very nearly made her chuckle.

“Oh, do give it up, Captain. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll—”

But he would have nothing to do with waiting until tomorrow, and step by lurching step he began to make his way down the first set of stairs. She tried not to hear his small groans, but the effort he was expending just to show he was able bodied moved her deeply.

When she very nearly could bear no more, they reached the bottom step before the grand landing. He gripped the newel post so fiercely that his knuckles were white, and, drawing in a long breath, he took his final step down.

But it was too much for the injured muscle, which finally gave way and pitched him forward. He grabbed for the wall and caught Eleanor instead, and together they tumbled onto the half-round green velvet ottoman that graced the wall of the broad landing. It was framed by elaborate drapery, which somehow managed to stay in place despite their grappling with it to break their fall.

“Oh my!” Eleanor cried, and threw out an arm to stop from rolling off the ottoman. But the movement only succeeded in throwing her directly into Caleb’s arms, in turn pinning him in place on the ottoman and saving his injured leg from a brutal landing on the hard floor or a tumble down the remaining set of stairs.

Their hearts slammed into one another as they struggled to catch their breath.

“Well now, duchess,” Caleb whispered. “I believe you saved my neck.”

She looked up into his face, which had come alive with the contrary looks of both success and embarrassment. “I’m delighted to have been of service, Captain,” she answered, except in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. It was breathless and softer than she’d intended.

Their gazes locked. And held. Then his focus dropped to her lips.

He was going to kiss her. She knew he was as certainly as she knew she should leap from the ottoman so he wouldn’t. Except she couldn’t. She’d never wanted anything so dearly in her life.

He lowered his head, and his mouth took possession of hers. Instead of pushing him away, Eleanor wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him closer.

Their lips touched, then his mouth opened above hers. She knew what he wanted and gave it willingly.

His tongue entered her mouth, and she met his advances as a defending army protecting her castle. Except her goal wasn’t to stop him from entering but to invite him in.

Tongues touched, battled, then each won a victory that threw them into mindless abandon.

Eleanor couldn’t give enough to him. She couldn’t take enough from him.

Their breathing became harsh and labored. With each deepened kiss, she felt less in control than before.

She was afraid where this would take them. It had been so long. For years she’d pretended she didn’t miss this part of a relationship. That she could live her life without a man’s touch. Without the intimacy that only a man could provide. But by all that was holy, she not only missed being loved, she craved it. She wanted nothing more than to be loved again, but not just by any man. By only this man. By only Captain Caleb Parker.

That realization tore her heart from her breast, and she pulled away from him as if his touch scorched her. She couldn’t allow it. She could never let herself forget that she wasn’t the woman she’d once been. She had nothing to offer a man.

Eleanor struggled to her feet and rushed back up the stairs. She heard him call her name, but she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t run far enough, or fast enough, from the pain of knowing what she would never have again.